Dark Whisperer
by the elsinatr
Summary: The purity of blood, ancient magical families, and close international ties only means that something big is brewing in the magical world! But when eight-year old Ruth Yvonne gets attacked, things get even weirder...-1st book of the Dark Series-
1. Out Of Hiding

A/N.: _Hello all! I know I said that I wasn't going to start any more stories like that, but you know how distracted authors get, don't you? Especially if you're one too. Anyways, this fictional piece of work is solely dedicated to the sixth Harry Potter movie: The Half-Blood Prince, which has just been released this week. I hope you'll enjoy this fic. I'm sorry if Draco Malfoy is a bit out of character, but he has changed. He's no longer who he was in school. I hope this clarifies a lot for you. Oh, and I'm not from England, but I added a few british terms and phrases. The rating of this story will slowly go up, thanks to my vivid british mind. It's a definite bonus for me as an author when you're stuck with british sitcoms all day long._

_Have a good summer, mates!_

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Dark Whisperer

Chapter 1

Out of Hiding

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Life can be very cruel sometimes.

It can also be very unexpected. If a Seer told me two years ago that I'd be filling out a job application for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I'd tell them that they drank too much Firewhisky.

Never in a thousand years have I acknowledged the fact that since the war, the name _Malfoy_ means nothing. But before I knew it, Mother and I had to put an incredible amount of wards on Wiltshire Manor due to vandals. Intruders were a fact of life for us now. I knew it was only a matter of time before we had to abandon the mansion. Mother opened an ice cream shop in Diagon Alley, where she now lives. To be frank I'm happy that she's moved on from the life we had before the war.

As for me, as soon as the manor was gone and I finished my NEWTS, I took a job as a freelance private detective. It was the perfect time for me to disappear from England. Mother didn't mind. After all I'm twenty-five and single, in fact the only people who kept me tied down to London was my childhood friend Blaise Zabini and my mother.

More importantly, I wanted to get away from it all; the memories, the insane laughter, the flashes of green, Dumbledore...

...I've changed a lot since the Battle of Hogwarts, and sometimes I wonder if it's for the best. I'm no longer the witty, brash, insolent little kid that everyone looked at with disgust. I'm no longer the bully of the playground, and I no longer sneer as much.

Throughout my time as a detective, I had successfully completed over a hundred cases from all over the world. Pretty soon, I became dangerously well-known in the crime-busting business, so I put disguises and made aliases to avoid detection from the wizarding world.

It was so easy to blend in muggle society, all thanks to Mothers' well-rounded sense of style and Blaises' narcissistic streak. I bought a small condo in Paris, France, overlooking the Seine. It wasn't a real fancy one, mind you. Just a nice, cosy little one bedroom with a fantastic view of the Eiffel Tower.

The french have, and always will amaze me. It's so ambitious and powerful, and yet they are content with eating croissants and pot-pourri all day. The parisians are nice people, who are always content with driving recklessly around national structures and buildings. In fact, I'm amazed that the statistics of car accidents in that city are incredibly low. It must be their adaptivity to the road conditions or something, because the twist and turns in Paris are quite frequent. I got a couple of jobs there which gave me enough money to last me a long time. So I decided to stay in Paris, because to tell you the truth, I've fallen in love with the place.

But as they say, things didn't last too long. Unfortunately Mother accidentally let slip about where I was hiding to a customer, Hannah Abbott-Longbottom. She was a gossiper from school who happened to be friends with journalist Parvati Patil, who happens to work in the Daily Prophet. I had no choice but to come back to England.

Which brings me back to square one: The Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

I was currently in my Parisian condo completing the application form on my desk, pausing at every ricidulous question they came up with. I mean, why would they want to know what your favourite color is? Do they want to infuriate the people who are answering the questions? Scowling at a particular stupid question, I gave a startled cry as Zabini suddenly appeared in my fireplace.

"What the bloody hell is your problem?" I grumbled, while he brushed the soot off of his robes.

He ignored me, and stared at the ruddy form. "So you're moving back in town, huh." he said smoothly, ignoring the shut-the-hell-up-or-I'll-kill-you look that I shot at him.

"Don't you have something to do, like say, take Pansy on a date?" Nice one, Draco.

Tip #1: When confronting your best friend, always wound them with the subject of something/someone they love.

Immediately Blaise's eyes started to glisten with lust. I snorted, and continued with my work. "I actually had a brilliant date with her last night in Greece," he confessed hoarsely, still reminiscing. "We went to a fancy restaurant

"Better you than me, mate. You're turning into a man of the world with Pans." I snickered, my eyes glued to the paper. "Tell me about your new job. Did you get reassigned?" Blaise Zabini is an Auror, much to the chagrin of many who are strong anti-Slytherin fans. He's a darn good one too. On his last assignment, he captured Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback simultaneously, knocking famous Harry Potter to the punch. Potter boy is also an Auror, and he and Blaise were assigned the same job at that time. Now, it seemed more than likely that Blaise Zabini would become the next Head of the Auror office.

Blaise Aaron Zabini, as you already know, is one of my oldest friends from way back. He is also the most sought-out person in all of London. Honestly, girls swoon at the sight of him. He is really just that bloody handsome to them all. He's almost like a male Veela on mild "steroids", whatever those muggles call it. He's also really different. Who in the world has crimson irises? I secretly think he's half-vampire, half-veela sometimes. To make matters worse, he's not afraid to flaunt his godliness to the world.

He literally has the entire witch population in the palm of his hands.

Bellatrix had no chance against him.

Zabini snapped out of his trance. "I'm reassigned with Weasel King," he sneered. I grinned appreciatively. A lot of things have changed since the war, first off, Blaise and Ron had this tense sort of friendship now that Zabini's an Auror. They actually had a lot in common, all except for the narcissism that Blaise has acquired from his dear mother. Still, the way Blaise holds grudges, Ron Weasley is a dead man...

Tip #2: No small talk when you're not in the mood. Get to the point.

"So why're you in my house?" I said dispassionately, throwing a dried out pen into the garbage behind me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Blaise's wounded expression. "Come on, Draco, we're friends," he whined, "can't I visit you every now and then?"

I know Blaise Zabini better than that. "You want something, don't you?"

"Well," he said uncomfortably, wringing his hands in apprehension, "Pans wants to have an interview with you." Pansy Parkinson was the exclusive editor of Witch Weekly, all thanks to Mother. I groaned inwardly, and sent a scowl his way.

"I knew it. Pans has got you whipped." I sniggered.

Tip #3: Wound them with a sarcastic remark.

Pansy had also published a new section for Witch Weekly, mainly involving most of the famous male population. Last week, Dean Thomas was picked no.1 hottest healer in St. Mungo's Hospital. It was hilarious once you read it.

Come to think of it, all the classmates in my year had very interesting jobs. Longbottom, the world's biggest loser, was now a professor at Hogwarts, Loony Lovegood was a magical naturalist, Gregory Goyle was an Unspeakable, Ernie Macmillan, the pompous prat, was a member of the Wizengamot, and Theodore Nott was a galleonaire in the spell-inventing business. It seemed that everyone except me had a really adventurous job.

I glared at my now finished job application. It was now or never. "Heron!" I yelled, and a pearly-white barn owl swooped into the dining room. I quickly sealed the paper into an envelope and tied it to his claws. "It's for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry, got it?" He blinked twice to show his understanding. Then he disappeared from the room and headed out my bedroom window.

"Nice owl you got there. Straight from LaPierre Boulevard, I take it?" LaPierre Boulevard was filled with magical shops, just like Diagon Alley in England. It's much less busy than the dratted English-style stores. There's no Knockturn Alley in Paris, due to the fact that they were neutral in the war. I never really knew that until Blaise had told me. Never have I loved Paris more.

"Yes. He's more reliable than my old owl." _who died due to your inferior lack of knowledge on animals, Blaise..._ I flashed a fake smile at him, and he looked really guilty at that moment.

"So, how's your mom doing?" he said sweetly, changing the subject. I looked at him angrily as he threw up his hands in defense. "Just tell me what to expect from Pansy's interview." I sighed. He's lucky I'm in a reasonably happy state, otherwise I'd blast his arse out of my condo.

Tip #4: Don't get in a good mood.

* * *

Flashes of thunder and lightning rain down on a terrified eight-year old's head. Her eyes were golden, her odd navy blue hair fell in damp ringlets around her windswept face which was petrifyingly pale, and she looked like she had never been more horrified in her entire life. She screamed and ran, as if the gods of rain and thunder were chasing her. To a muggle's eye, she was just freaking out at the big storm.

But to a wizard's eye, she was being chased by a pack of werewolves and Dementors.

Apparently she knew what was following her, because she had a permanent expression of terror. On pure human instinct, she knew that she was in deep trouble.

_(flashback)_

_"Mummy, Daddy!" an excited eight-year old bounded towards the massive dining room. Then she saw them._

_Her parents were huddled on the floor, clutching and clawing at a dense mist. "Mum?"_

_She unwisely took a step closer._

_Suddenly, she felt a pair of rotten, clammy, invisible hands grab her neck, forcing her to move her head upwards. The hands materialised in front of her, as she stared into the unwelcome intruder._

_It had no face._

_She shrieked and thrashed, her hand hit the faceless creature and it staggered back, clutching at the spot where its eye should've been._

_That's when she fled from her house._

_(end flashback)_

They were slowly gaining on her, around a hundred Dementors and werewolves. It was really an army of Dark creatures that were chasing a lone eight-year old. She felt so confused, so scared, so vulnerable.

She just wanted it to stop. She didn't know what the creatures were, and she didn't know why they were chasing her.

She wanted them to go away from her life, away from her family, away from her.

"STOP!" she screamed, facing the oncoming horde. "STOP!" She closed her eyes, unable to look at the grotesque monsters.

They kept on advancing.

"STOP!"

They were getting nearer, she could smell the sickly stench.

"STOP!"

An odd wailing sound was ringing in her ears.

"STOP IT!" she roared, and her golden eyes turned cat-like, feral. Her irises were a murky, bloody red, piercing through the dark night and she felt power burst from her arms like she never felt before.

It was coursing through her veins, warming her up, dancing like pixies in her eyes. A deep vibrating sound was all around her, cleansing her and refreshing her. The power was running through her whole system, giving her a sense of relief and safety. It was a part of her, as though she had used it for quite a while, and knew its quirks and problems.

She felt secure.

Her body eased into a fighting stance as her body let go, and she spun around eerily. The drone of her untapped power flew out of her in waves. It hit the pack of werewolves, turning them into human and knocking them out. The Dementors scattered away from her. It was as if she was in the core of an earthquake, only the earthquake was inside of her, coming out from her. Slowly, the dark clouds moved on, as she collapsed onto the dry earth.

All of her senses were high-tuned, on alert mode. She heard, saw, felt, tasted like never before. The oxygen in the air was so fresh and invigorating. She took a deep, shaky breath, as her senses started to dull. She saw vivid outlines of people who were crowding around her.

It was all too much. That was what her eight-year old body said to her, and she let go of all consciousness willingly, sagging into the ground.

One thing was certain about her: she would never be the same.

* * *

"This is a disaster! Who is this child anyways?" The crowd of people made way for a witch from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She knelt next to an eight-year old girl who looked like she was sleeping.

"Finnigan! Tell me exactly what happened here!" she barked. Beside her, a tired Seamus Finnigan began recounting the events that happened before she had gotten there. "She was running from a massive number of Dementors and werewolves. For some reason, they turned back to human form, and the Dementors fled from the crime scene. It was only a matter of time, though," he muttered under his breath.

"Matter of time?" the witch asked coldly, waiting for clarification. Seamus quickly explained. "Her name is Ruth Yvonne."

The witch stared thoughtfully at the peaceful form in front of her. "Does it have anything to do with the case?" she snapped waspishly.

Seamus gave a shuddering sigh and raked his hand through his hair. "Do you remember Sybill Trelawney, from school?"

"Don't remind me." The witch rolled her eyes. It was apparent that Sybill Trelawney, whoever that was, had caused the woman enough grief to last a lifetime.

"She's a teacher at Hogwarts, you know."

"The career she chose doesn't make her into a real Seer. She's a batty old wanker, like always." she said, with a note of finality.

Seamus went on unrelentlessly. "She made a prophecy about this little girl." He gestured to the girl.

The witch looked at the sleeping girl, and her stern mask softened.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" the witch, Hermione, looked at Seamus expectantly. The girl near Hermione stirred slightly, but did not wake up.

"Be nice to this girl, Ruth here. For all our sakes." Seamus said softly.

For once, Hermione Granger was speechless. "I'm nice." she said defensively.

Seamus imitated her and rolled his eyes. "You haven't been nice all week, you know." Hermione gave him a glare, and looked back at the girl. In many ways, this girl Ruth reminded her painfully of herself as a child.

"Fine, Seamus. But I am not going to turn mellow just for the whole Department just so you know. Everyone'll take advantage of my good mood."

Seamus barked a booming laugh, even making Hermione cracked a smile.

In Seamus Finnigan's eyes, his job was easier whenever his superior Hermione Granger was in a good mood. Seamus knew her from school, and knew that she could be ambitious, bossy and annoying at her peak.

However, things had changed. They were no longer in school. Hermione Granger, as far as anyone was concerned, disappeared like a gecko in the background of the wizarding world. She was just another Ministry employee, intent on finishing the job and getting a good draught of Firewhisky when the day was done. Her old friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had a bit of a falling out a few years back. If Seamus had heard it correctly, a healer at St. Mungo's had advised her to take Happiness Potions to relieve the stress. Only truly depressed people had to be prescribed that type of potion. It wasn't Seamus's position to ask Hermione very personal questions, no matter how close they were in school. She was a boss, and he was merely an employee.

That still didn't stop him from being very observant, which is an unusual trait for him to have.

So if Hermione Granger had just cracked a smile in over a year, things were definitely changing for the better.

Life is full of surprises.

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Disclaimer: All right reserved to JK Rowling. I do not own any Harry Potter characters, places, ideas, except for Ruth Yvonne and LaPierre Boulevard.

Do not use this plot without my permission.


	2. Ruth Yvonne

A/N.: _I just love this story. It's absolutely smashing, if I do say so myself!__The scenes where Draco Malfoy isn't in, they are completely third person. It only makes life easier for me. _

_My favorite top 10 HP stories this week are:_

-**Broken**_**:**_ by inadaze22, a ruddy fantastic author, I might add. _Complete Dramione fic._

_-_**Mr Maybe**_: A 100% Dramione fic _by firdbirdflame

-**Harry Potter and the Marriage Contracts**_**: **_by Clell65619. _Harry P./Daphne G. Really good unusual pairing fic. Strong Harry._

-**An Aunt's Love**_**:**_by Emma Lipardi. _It has over 10000 reviews. That enough should entice you to like it. Strong Harry._

-**The Cabin**_**: **_by Halfling. _another complete Dramione fic involving prophecies, ancestry and defeating Lord Voldemort. _

-**The line between love and hate**_**: **_by Leena White. _Draco and Hermione are teachers at Hogwarts, and you guessed it, Dramione._

**-A Series of Strange and Hilarious Events**_**:**_ by luvlylinz. _Smexy Dramione, and a couple of trips to the hospital wing! Humor/Romance._

**-The Inquisitor's Son**_**:**_ by jinxdoll. _Next gen Harry Potter characters. SM/LLP. Scorpius/Lily._

**-My Heart Forever Lies in London**_**:**_ by ElaineAbbene. _Ruddy brilliant! Victoire Weasley/Teddy Lupin._

-**Eight Days a Week**_**: **_by larrythestapler. _Draco speaking... Shakespearian??!? Dramione. Completed._

_I would like to mention that Ruth Yvonne is totally of my own imagination. Although she may act like many of the characters, it is who she is. I will continuously build her character so that many of you will understand in due course. Here's a little rewind on her appearance: she has navy blue hair, golden eyes, pale skin and she's eight years old. Also, Draco is 23 and Hermione is turning 24. _

_I got inspired to make this character based on a combination of my personality. Trust me, the story will get better when you continue on._

_Special thanks to all who have reviewed. Not many have, but that will all change, hopefully for the better._

_Happy Reading! And please review if you want me to continue!_

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Chapter 2

Ruth Yvonne

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"What in the bloody name of Merlin??!?!?!?"

Trust Mother to just throw in a valuable piece of information to me thirty minutes before a big interview! The sun was pesteringly hot in Diagon Alley, and unfortunately my dark suit didn't help my situation at all. I clutched at my tie like a crazed maniac, ignoring the looks the customers were giving me.

My mother Narcissa Malfoy smirked as she began cleaning up. Judging from the look of mirth that she gave me, I knew she was amused at my lack of knowledge. "Really, Draco. You should _know_ these things. After all, she's Head of your new job."

I groaned into my hands. Thank goodness Mother puts protection charms on her bar stools, otherwise I'd be falling out of them.

"Don't remind me."

"Tsk," she mollycoddled, looking up from her cleaning, "She's a nice girl, you know. And don't you dare think that I'm judgemental towards muggles like your father is." Mother's eyes started to glisten with oncoming tears at her own mention of her husband. I steered the conversation out of dangerous waters, knowing it was for the best.

Even though she's my Mother, she sometimes gets on my nerves.

Another girlish laugh escaped her mouth, and I glared once more at her.

Scratch that. She _always _gets on my nerves.

"How come you didn't write to me this summer?" she said, pouting like a child. I had to fight the urge to give her a sarcastic comment. "I was busy, Mother." I replied stiffly.

What I just said wasn't a lie at all, in fact. I had to finish thirty cases in two bloody months, and I barely had time to go to the store to buy fresh food. I was living off of pizza and pop. I know it isn't healthy, but what am I supposed to do? Let down all those people? No thanks, I'd rather stick to the Coke, thanks.

"So how do you know this piece of info?"

She threw her head back and laughed. "Hermione Granger is a customer of mine, silly child."

I gaped at her wordlessly. I'm twenty-three and she still calls me a silly child? That's the last straw. "See you around, _Mother._" I said scathingly, looking away from her smirking face. I grabbed my coat and Disapparated, landing five miles from my current destination. I was near the muggle British Prime Minister's house and way off base. I needed to get to the Ministry as quickly. Better to get the worst over with.

I had enough on my plate without my mother pestering the daylights out of me.

* * *

"Ruth Yvonne?" Seamus asked, brushing the soot off his ministry clothes. In the middle of the ward was a small, frail eight-year old girl with a male healer putting tubes around her. A machine was humming slowly next to her. Seamus just got leave to visit her, due to the fact that he was a worker for Magical Law.

A healer standing at the edge of her bed looked up from his spellcasting, and his face broke into a broad grin. "Seamus, mate! Glad you could come!" He cried, a broad hand patting the back of Seamus. The latter smiled happily at him. "Long time no see, Dean."

Healer Dean Thomas, newly instated head of St. Mungo's and best friend to Seamus Finnigan, was currently in charge of the girl named Ruth Yvonne. He was one of the best, the inventor of the Lumacos Potion which helped cure countless lycanthropes. After the candid interview he had been harassed through by Pansy, an old acquaintance, Parvati Patil, had cornered him a few days later. Now they were dating, and Seamus couldn't be happier for his best friend.

There was no time to socialize however, because Seamus was on a very important mission.

"Dean, how's Ruth coming along?" he asked, moving towards the bed. A weird aura was revolving around her, giving her the appearance of a fallen angel. The peacefulness that was temporarily etched across her face was a distant reminder that the girl had gone through a lot. "Can I talk to her, Dean?"

Dean Thomas shrugged unhelpfully. "She's in and out of consciousness at the mo', Seamus." The irish man nodded, and continued to look at her. After a while he spoke. "Do you know how much this girl has gone through?" he asked quietly.

"No," The healer said, curiosity getting the better of him. Seamus sighed heavily, magicked a chair out of thin air, and sat down on it. Raking his fingers through his hair, he began to tell him the story.

"When we got to Dovercourt, a few miles out of the west of London, we detected a strong presence of Dementors. We went down Worchestire Lane, where their house was, and d'you know what we found there?" An odd feeling of fear overcame Dean, and he found himself whispering, "What happened next?"

Seamus turned slightly green. "About twenty Dementors were feasting on her parents." Dean's eyes were as round as galleons. He steadied himself and Seamus whipped out his wand before Dean could fall to the ground.

"And... they performed the kiss, didn't they?" Seamus nodded helplessly, "They were barely alive."

Both men turned and looked at the sleeping patient. "Where did you find Ruth?" Dean asked anxiously.

Seamus slowly turned to look at his oldest friend. "She was fleeing from the Dementors." The healer's eyes flickered from Ruth to Seamus. "Around five minutes later, a pack of wild werewolves were seen about a mile from where she was." Dean took a shaky breath and clenched at the sides of his chair. Before he got up, Seamus put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "No, they didn't attack her. They just chased her."

"What?" Dean put his face in his hands, "so the girl's chased by a pack of hounds and ghosts from the Devil himself, is that it?" Seamus made a noise between a grunt and a moan, which obviously meant to be a "yes".

"But the funny thing is," Seamus said to nobody in particular, watching as a picture of Elderidge the Edgy picked his nose, "is that..._something_ made them go away."

"Was it Dark magic?" Dean asked worriedly.

"No no," he reassured, "it was something..._different_. It felt... calm,...peaceful. Just like a Christmas morning at Hogwarts." he went off sheepishly. He and Dean had many fond memories of that school.

A sudden beeping sound resonated in the room, jerking the two to their feet instantaneously. "What is it?" Seamus asked, full business tone kicking in gear. Dean walked over to Ruth, and looked at the machine. The beeping slowly stopped. There was an ringing silence.

"Are her parents muggles, Seamus?"

"Yes, why?" Seamus didn't like where this was going.

"Well," Dean turned to him, a taut smile stretching over his face, "She's a full-blooded witch."

* * *

Hermione Jean Granger, current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was in a moral dilemma.

In her hands lay the future career of Draco Malfoy.

Maybe five years ago she would love this kind of control over the slimy ferret. Now, however, remembering Malfoy meant remembering the past, and frankly, she had enough on her mind without the stupid Slytherin ordering her around. She was quite happy having one childhood acquaintance in her department; she didn't want to deal with another smarty pants git. Not that Seamus Finnigan was as smart, but he was sometimes an idiot in some circumstances.

She loved her job, despite appearances. She had a diligent secretary named Rose Zeller, who was always neat and punctual, and she couldn't really ask for more. Plus, Seamus was always there to help her out of sticky spots, such as the press.

The _Daily Prophet_ really wasn't that all bad these days. She could deal with Parvati Patil; it was always a bonus when you had connections to the media. But Hermione had to be brutally blunt when it came to Parvati: she was literally another Rita Skeeter who just happens to be in her twenties. It was a gift from Merlin that Hermione was nice to the journalist during her brief seven years at Hogwarts.

"Finnigan!" Hermione pressed her hands to the handy little intercom. She really loved muggle devices, mainly because they were handy in these types of situations. And sure enough, Seamus arrived from a ministry fireplace, his tie askew. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione put a hand to silence him. "I don't even want to know." She had heard enough stories about Lavender and Seamus's sexscapades. She was happy for them, after all, they _had_ invited her to their wedding, and she was forever grateful. But now was not the time.

Seamus rubbed his eyes in irritation. "Hermione, that's not what I was going to say! It's about... Ruth." A manicured hand flew to Hermione's face, as she realized that she had totally forgotten what had happened yesterday. Ruth Yvonne was in St. Mungo's, getting checked for any anormalities in her system. Checking the agenda she always brought with her, she saw that Ruth was getting discharged today. "Seamus, I can't go to St. Mungo's now!" she said, panicking.

"Calm down, 'Mione, it's okay!" Hermione was infamously known for her panic attacks. "I'll go get her right now! I was just waiting for your permission!"

"Oh," Hermione breathed, sagging into her chair, all excitement draining from her. Seamus sighed, relieved that he didn't need to calm down the obsessive workaholic. He ran down the stairs and disappeared.

Taking in a deep breath, she looked down at the dratted application form in her hands.

_Name:__ Draco Abraxas Malfoy_

_Height:__ 6 ft 3 inch_

_Age:__ 23_

_Blood Type:__ A_

_Favorite Color:__ Burgundy_

_NEWTs:_

_-Ancient Runes, O _

_-Astronomy, E _

_-Charms, O _

_-Defense Against the Dark Arts, O _

_-Herbology, E _

_-History of Magic, A _

_-Muggle Studies, E_

_-Potions, E_

_-Transfiguration, O _

_Previous Career:__ Freelance Private Detective (finished over 132 cases in four years)_

"How does he do that? How can he be so... brilliant?" Hermione mused aloud.

"Hn," She looked up, and saw the devil incarnate. Rose didn't warn her about him at all. "Maybe it's because I'm ... _Draco Malfoy._" Yup, the trademark smirk was on at full power. A heady scent of cologne filled the room, and Hermione instinctively inhaled the aphrodisiac. Her pupils started dilating.

Now she realized why Rose didn't bother to tell her. Malfoy probably flirted with the poor girl until she was a giggling fit.

"M..Malfoy??" Hermione said incredulously. From the top of his dark Armani suit, to the impeccable black shoes, it was really Draco Malfoy in all his entirety. The only thing that has changed was the fact that he was wearing muggle clothes that didn't clash horribly with each other. She stared rudely at him, shocked that he was even considering working for the Magical Law Enforcement.

He could be a model for Dolce and Gabbana, for crying out loud.

"Now that you've stopped ogling my sexiness, Granger, I think it's best if we carry on with this interview," he stated silkily. Even his voice had changed from a whinny alto to a deep, vibrating tenor.

This was going to be a long job interview.

* * *

When Seamus Finnigan burst through the fireplace of the St. Mungo Hospital, what he didn't expect was to find the place in shatters.

Nor did he expect to find it devoid of patients and staff. He rushed up to the fourth floor, where he found the all the machines broken beyond repair.

"Ruth?" He inched closer to her bed. "Ruth Yvonne?"

The bed was empty. Inspecting the sheets, he realized what happened.

Ruth Yvonne had been kidnapped, and judging by the flecks of blood, it was done against her will.

* * *

Was this Hermione "Mudblood" Granger? I just couldn't believe my eyes. She was wearing a slimming skirt that accentuated her curves in all the right places. With it came a white blouse that only accentuated her beauty. This couldn't be her.

I don't even remember if she did have curves in school! If she did, she really... but then again, she always hung out with Pothead and the Weasel, so I could have noti-...

"M..Malfoy??" I could tell from her eyes that she was earnestly shocked. Her brown eyes were literally the size of galleons, looking up and- Wait, rewind! Granger... is looking at me up and down! Damn, I think she likes what she sees. I better get this over with if I want the position.

"Now that you've stopped ogling my sexiness, Granger, I think it's best if we carry on with this interview," I said smoothly, and Granger seemed to come back to her senses.

"Y-Yes, Mr Malfoy. Let's head to my office," her voice turned business-like and she walked down the hallway, beckoning me to follow. I willed all my self-control not to jump her. I really didn't care that she used to be in Gryffindor, and I was a Slytherin, or that she was part of the "Golden Trio", and that I was a ...

"So how was France?" Granger asked me.

"H-How-"

"Your file, Mr Malfoy."

"Draco now, H...Hermione."

She gave no indication that I used her first name, but strode to a brass doorknob and took out her wand. _"Alohomora."_ she muttered.

Her office was in disarray. Spare inkpots were thrown across the floor, old quills were broken, even the picture frames on her desk were knocked down. "I'm sorry for the mess," she muttered apologetically.

_"Evanesco!"_ The quills, parchment and inkpots Vanished. She righted the picture frames and sat on her mahogany business chair.

"All right let's start the interview," she ordered briskly. I could tell that I wasn't the only person who had applied for the job. She cleared her throat. "Why should I hire you?"

That sounded a bit blunt to my ears. Maybe Granger has changed.

"Isn't my file enough to persuade you, Ms Granger?" I asked sweetly. She stared at me dully for a minute, and then began.

"I have had at least a hundred people through these doors, Mr Malfoy, and all of them have better NEWT grades than you. And yet, none of them have passed my intense scrutiny." Her eyes narrowed at me, as she clasped her hands together and surveyed me. "Why should I give you this job?"

Oh shite! My amazing charm won't get me this job. I quickly thought of a solution.

"Give me a month, Ms Granger, and I swear I won't be a burden to your department. In fact, there are many ways I could be an asset here." I replied.

She muttered a summoning spell and poured black coffee into a white mug. "Do enlighten me, Mr Malfoy."

I took a deep breath. "During my years as a private detective, I have been on a lot of cases, muggle and magical. As you probably know, I took a course on Muggle Studies in my seventh year. My name is recognized on a dozen muggle agencies, and I can assure I'm not known for infamy in the muggle world,"

Her dark left eyebrow twitched.

"I have been traveling non-stop for four years, cracking cases, capturing criminals, etc. Finally, I've settled in Paris, and I took a job with the muggle Parisian board of security. I have never used magic on a muggle, and in muggle cases, I prefer to use the muggle method of solving crimes,"

The eyebrow rose a few centimetres.

"Just this year, my name has been acknowledged from the muggle French Prime Minister as the best detective in all of France." I finished, allowing a slight smirk to mar the effect.

Both eyebrows were now raised.

"That's all sounding good, Mr Malfoy, but-" The door to her office burst open, and an irate Seamus Finnigan burst in, looking harassed. He was on the brink of informing Hermione, when he saw me lounging on the chair. I sneered, as his mouth opened and closed like a guppy.

"Finnigan! Whatever is the matter?" She's so professional, I thought to myself.

"Ruth Yvonne has been captured."

Who in the name of Merlin are they talking about?

"By whom?" Hermione stood up, a hint of fear and anger lacing her voice.

"A Death Eater."

The temperature in the room dropped three degrees.

* * *

"Hermione?" Finnigan looked at her anxiously, waiting for a reaction.

Antonin Dolohov. He was that wankerous old lech, that nutter who had kidnapped Ruth, the one who had almost hit Granger with a terrible curse in her fifth year. Thousands of memories filled my mind, not all of them good.

It was as clear as a bright summers' day: not all Death Eaters had been captured.

Granger, however, looked like she wasn't going to resurface from her thoughts anytime soon, so I took matters into my own hands.

"Dear god, get a grip, woman!" I said, grabbing her shoulders to shake her out of her stupor.

A hand reached out and slapped my hands softly. I let go, afraid of her reaction for once in my life, but just looked at me before talking. "All right," she said, taking a deep calming breath, " Where was he last seen?"

"A couple of miles west from Bath. Potter's got the Aurors hot on his tail." I grinned, knowing that Dolohov would have a hard time trying to get to his hideout. Potter, however far away he was from reaching Blaise's standard, was still a pretty darn good Auror.

"OK," Hermione looked at me with piercing eyes, "I need all the help I can get. You're hired, Mr Malfoy."

"What?"

"Are you daft? I said you're hired. Now both of you get your sorry arses out of my office. I'll come out in a minute."

I smiled genuinely for the first time in years. For once, Granger was being an adult and leaving the Gryffindor/Slytherin disparities behind. I looked back at Seamus, who was staring at me, shocked beyond belief.

I offered him his hand, noticing his hesitation as he shook it. "I guess we're working together now, Finnigan." I stated brightly.

"Yeah... listen Draco." His hands started fidgeting, whereas I'm shocked.

Since when has Finnigan used my first name?

Umm, since never.

"Yes?"

"..don't do anything to hurt Hermione," he said seriously, his eyes flashing, "You'll be in deep and bloody shite, mate."

I snorted, unable to contain myself. They're all Gryffindorks really, flashing their loyalty and bravery badges all around the place. What's Finnigan thinking? "Of course not. Wouldn't dream of it, Finnigan."

"Good." he said, visibly relaxing. He was about to open his mouth when Granger burst through her office door, cheeks blazing. She had draped a traveling cloak around her shoulders.

Taking out her wand, she Summoned an ink, quill and some parchment, which she had bewitched to make them write something.

She then turned towards Finnigan. "Send your Patronus to Kingsley. Notify him of this immediately. If we have to send backup, that's what we'll do," she whirled around quickly, "Mr Malfoy, you are to stay with me at all times."

"What am I? The backup, or a bleeding house-elf?" She frowned at my last comment, but otherwise she ignored me. Finnigan had taken out his wand, and was muttering _"expecto patronum"_ under his breath, along with detailed instructions. He turned and looked at Hermione. "We're all set to go, if you want to go now."

"Thank you, Finnigan. Now, hold on to my arms." she ordered, and I knew we were being taken by side-along Apparition. I braced myself, ready for the squelching feeling. You can never get used to Apparition, no matter what you say.

Pretty soon, the horrible sensation disappeared, and the unfamiliar bustle of Bath, a city I've never been to before. "Mr Malfoy, keep your wits about you!" I turned and saw an angry Granger. Hastily walking to her side, we walked down the road, ignoring the weird looks people gave us.

The air around us was hazy and vague, almost like the aftermath of a Dementor attack. I shuddered, earning a glare and a disapproving look from the two Ministry employees and I just kept on walking. Dark clouds were forming, the hint of rain was coming, and deep cold fronts were materialising.

We crossed the pedway, and several cars honked at us. It must've been rush hour, because there was so many cars down that street.

"Draco!" Seamus waved a hand. Oh shite, I had to zone out. The muggle in the cars were yelling at me to get off the bloody street. I sighed, and ran down to the restaurant where he and Granger were. As soon as I stepped into the room, a waiter honed in on us with an overenthusiastic greeting.

* * *

The girl named Ruth Yvonne stirred out of the Sleeping Draught she had unknowingly been given. She stared at her surroundings, noticing that she was in an ambulance, and there wasn't any personnel on the bloody thing.

The last thing she remembered was a masked healer pouring a dark, murky liquid in her feeding tubes.

"Excuse me," she said, walking up to the driver's seat, "Where exactly am I headed, sir?" The man was silent for a few minutes. Then he turned around, and immediately the alarm bells went off in Ruth's head. The man had a half-shaved head, and the grin on his face was truly sinister. Dark hazel eyes looked at her, and she found herself feeling staring right back. She racked her brains, trying to remember anyone who looked remotely like that man, because he looked oddly familiar to her. It was highly disconcerting. She knew something was incredibly wrong with him.

Then she saw what he was doing.

He was driving without looking at the road.

What was even more weird was that signposts and buildings were jumping out of the way for him.

She screamed and ran down to the back of the ambulance. As soon as she left, the man pulled out a straight stick, and directed it at her back. _"Relashio!"_ he cried, in a strange foreign language. Invisible ropes were tightly bound around her, and she mercilessly fell to the metal floor. Her vision was blurring and she couldn't do anything about it. Again, she closed her eyes, as unconsciousness swept over her like a tidal wave.

The man driving looked back on the road, and righted the ambulance to the right lines. He looked up into the rearview mirror, watching the sleeping form of the girl.

"I'm sorry, Ruthie. It's for the best."

The man was Antonin Dolohov and he was Ruth Yvonne's uncle.

-

-

* * *

Disclaimer: All right reserved to JK Rowling. I do not own any Harry Potter characters, places, ideas, except for Ruth Yvonne and LaPierre Boulevard.

Do not use this plot without my permission.


	3. Not Alone

_A/N.: Please review! There's currently eight people who have this story on their alert list, but I want to know what you think of this story! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!_

* * *

Chapter 3

Not Alone

* * *

-

-

The wind was in a flustered mood, howling and groveling at the doorway. Ginny closed the door, but even the sound of it oozed into the rickety house. The auburn-haired woman walked to the dining room and sat down on an empty chair. She was soon followed by an angry Harry and an irate Ron, their heavy footfalls colliding with the old staircase.

"Honestly, Ron, she would _be_ here right now if it wasn't for your brazenly drunk-"

"Just what're you implying, scarhead?" Both of them were going through the livingroom.

"Scarhead? If I can recall, I'm not the one who likes attention, unlike some red-haired people I kn-"

"I don't like attention!"

"..says the guy who described his encounter with a 'mass murderer' in detail! You're filled with ego, Ron. You're just too blind to realize-"

The door to the diningroom burst open, and Ginny looked up."Why you filthy-"

"Shut up Ron, just shut up!" Ginny was standing, her eyes blazing into each of the boys' heads. She could be as timid as Neville Longbottom, yet as menacing as an angry Molly Weasley when the time came. "It's your bloody fault that Mione isn't here-"

"MY FAULT? IF SHE HAD JUST LISTENE-"

"What was the point of listening Ron? You two were ENGAGED. Why did you do it in the first place?"

Their voices became shriller, and Ginny pulled out her wand, while Harry instinctively inserted himself in front of the two of them. It reminded him of the time when Ron caught Ginny and Dean kissing in a deserted hallway, although this time Harry had a good reason to defend Ginny. Ron was breathing in and out of his nose and looking murderous. At times like these Harry was devoutly thankful that the Weasleys had decided to spend their holiday in Romania with Charlie. If they knew what was going on...

"Don't try and deny it!" Ginny was screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs. A hex nearly hit Ron, who dodged it gracelessly.

The stubborn red-head wasn't backing down. "I wasn't denying anything! Even Dean was there-"

"AND DON'T TRY TO PUT THIS ONE ON DEAN, I KNOW FOR A FACT HE WAS WORKING A LATE SHIFT AT ST. MUNGO-"

"HE LIES, GIN!"

"Shut up."

"IT WASN'T OF MY OWN ACCORD! I DIDN'T FORCE MYSELF ONTO LAVENDAR, SHE KNEW IT WAS-"

"Shut up, _Shut up, _SHUT UP!"

A loud slap was heard across the diningroom, followed by the wretched sound of sobbing. Harry looked at Ginny. Tears were cascading freely from her face, as she looked at Ron with complete and utter bitterness on her freckled face.

"I swear," she whispered violently, "that if I manage to win Hermione back, I will make you _pay_, Ronald Weasley. Mark my words."

She stormed out of the room as quickly as she could, banging the door extra loudly. A ringing silence soon accompanied her abrupt departure, followed by the sound of the wind against the old pipes of the house.

"You know," Harry began, but Ron stopped him. He was facing the other way, and for that, Harry was grateful.

Silence erupted in the room.

"She's right..." Ron said to himself, "Gin's right." He repeated it like a mantra, over and over again. Soon the sounds of the Burrow faded in along with Ron's words and the storm outside.

Was Ginny right? Harry asked that to himself, his brow furrowed in thought. Did he drive Hermione out?

But Harry had a vague suspicion that that wasn't the whole reason.

* * *

"What is this place?" I whispered to Granger, who was calmly reading a Muggle newspaper. She grunted and merely twitched the newspaper into a different direction. I looked at Seamus expectantly, hoping for answers. He shrugged and put more sugar in his coffee.

That man must've had at least six packs of sugar since coming to this stupid place.

This is so frustrating! No one is telling me anything! I slammed my fist down on the table. "Look, miss Granger, I don't know what's wrong with you, but please _enlighten_ me about what we're doing! I'm not stupid, you know!"

"Well you're doing a fine job of it, _Malfoy!_" Granger finally looked up from her newspaper.

If looks could kill, I'd be ten thousand feet underneath the earth in a boiling pit of lava.

"Be _patient,_ Malfoy." she said softly, all the while staring me down with those freaky eyes of hers.

"How can I be patient? You drag me here on _important_ business, only I find myself in a restaurant, with you, Finnigan, and a queer Muggle waiter, waiting for god-knows-what, listening to the bloody strips of paper ripping off of the bloody sugar that Finnigan's pouring-"

"I have a name, you know!" Finnigan said, interrupting my monologue. I pretend not to notice.

"-probably used half the sugar cubes in this bloody cafe, if you can call it a cafe, you know I had better days working on my own than this whole day put together-"

"SHUT UP, _Malfoy_." The crazy psychotic woman said sweetly. I ignored her.

"-I could choose my own bloody assignments, but it's not like the bloody Ministry has a bloody choice about it, why am I here anyways?"

From the corner of my twitching eye, I saw the look Finnigan exchanged with Granger.

"Malfoy," Granger said, standing up from her seat. I swear that her scent was reeking havoc in this place. "Yes?" I said, imitating her voice. Her brown eyes narrowed. "We need to talk."

Oh, shite.

* * *

As soon as Ginny walked out of her parent's house, she stopped to breathe. Everything was slowly coming back to normal. Vaguely she remembered her big row with Ron, but it was put to the past now. She couldn't go back to that dreadful place, not for all the Chocolate Frogs in the world.

She hoped Harry wouldn't back up Ron. It was surely the wrong thing to do in this case.

It had been two in the morning when that dreadful day arrived. She had heard shrill voices and screaming, loud pops and several muffled shouts. Hermione had come running out of Ron's room in a state of panic. Her brown eyes were looking everywhere for something. Ginny had decided to quit pretending to be asleep and to confront her brother.

And found him lying naked in his room with an unconscious Lavendar.

Reacting on instinct, Ginny had practically zoomed down the stairs before Hermione could have a chance to Disapparate.

She found her on the Weasley lawn, screaming at the dirty ground, clutching the grass as if it were a lifeline. Ginny had cautiously came up to her and gave her a tentative pat on the shoulder.

"He cheated. He _cheated_. He-" A fresh wave of sobs erupted from Hermione, as she continued to voice her broken thoughts. In all her life, Ginny had never seen Hermione so upset. It was like she was looking in on something private, something which shouldn't be displayed so openly.

For once, Ginny didn't know what to say. "Hermione-"

But the brown-haired girl had already gotten up from the dirt, and brushed herself off with her wand. "I guess I won't be seeing you as much as I thought I would, Ginevra."

Ginny stared. The voice of the bushy-haired girl was cool and detached, her voice devoid of any emotion. A sense of foreboding overcame the red-head.

"See you around sometime, then."

Just like that, Hermione Jean Granger had disappeared from Ginny Weasley's world.

It was a day that she would never forget.

"Ginny?" The girl was shaken from her thoughts due to a familiar voice. "Can I join you?"

"Sure Harry," she sighed. The dark-haired boy sure knew how to time his entrances. She turned her attention over to the golden harvest moon shining over the hill, just beyond the garden patch. A stray gnome darted across their path, its shadow casting eerie darkness over the glow of the light. She sighed again, her unhappiness clearly showing on her face.

"It's a crime," she said sadly, "that we can enjoy a night like this when I know for a fact that Hermione can't." Harry didn't know what to say to that. He just sat next to her. "You know," she began, "she still gets nightmares. Every now and then I get a firecall from her. But she still hasn't _really_ talked to me." As she looked back at the moon, she began sobbing. "I knew that-that Ron never really got over Lavendar. I knew that Hermione knew that the relationship wasn't going anywhere."

"But, but why? Why did she choose to be engaged to Ron? When," she faltered and gave a stuttering breath, "when she told me about it, it was like she was sending herself to the gallows. Sh-she wasn't like all the other people I know who are brides-to-be. She seemed resigned to... to her f-fate."

Now that piece of information only fueled Harry's suspicions. Why would Hermione marry a guy she didn't have true passion for?

"My friend," Ginny cried. "My first friend... was drowning in her life right before my eyes. Hermione was _drowning_, Harry. She was in an important job, her stress levels were high, and to top it all off, she was engaged to a person who never really deserved her! And I didn't do _anything_ to stop it!" By the time Ginny finished, she was wailing. Harry tenderly held Ginny in his arms. "Shh, it's okay....it's gonna be okay..." Harry said soothingly, knowing his words were empty at heart.

They stayed like that till morning came.

* * *

Where is she taking me?

As soon as we rounded a deserted corner, she whirled around and smacked me on the head! "Stop asking for attention," she hissed, "attention is the thing we need the least. You'll do well to remember that."

She left, leaving me staring after her in the dark alley.

But what intrigues me now, is that she is _intentionally_ bossy and menacing. It's like a mask, an ideal that she has to uphold. I've seen faces like that for a long time, ever since I became a detective. She's trying to cover up something, but I don't know why...

* * *

A dark man entered the restaurant, a little girl holding his hand. He waved away the bubbly waiter, and chose a seat in a corner, next to a giant bouquet of flowers. Seamus ruffled the newspaper, and cast a silent see-through charm on it, so he could look in without being suspected. He knew that the man sitting in that corner was none other than the suspect they were looking for, but Antonin would probably tell the little girl valuable information that the Ministry could use.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a muggle waitress swaying towards him. Cursing under his breath, he surreptitiously cast a glamor charm on himself, before lowering the newspaper, a fake smile pasted on his face.

"Hello, sir. How can I help you?" the girl asked, paper and pen on one hand.

"Um," Seamus, who now had black hair and a goatee said, "Could I switch seats, please?"

The waitress looked startled, "Why, certainly sir." She looked around the restaurant, until her eyes rested on a cubicle right in front of Dolohov and Ruth. "There's one right there."

"Thank you." the irish auror drawled, making his way towards the table.

* * *

"...so let me get this straight," Ruth muttered, eyes lingering on the hopeful face of Antonin, "you're my uncle, my parents are wizards and I'm a witch?"

Antonin nodded.

"I don't believe it," Ruth said crossly, putting her elbows on the table, "I'm a normal kid. The only thing that isn't normal for me is my brainpower. So I don't believe it's true, Mr Dolohov-"

"Call me Uncle Tony," he said brightly.

"-Mr _Dolohov_," Ruth narrowed her eyes, her teeth clenched, "and if it was true, where would the science come into this?"

The ex-Death Eater laughed, tears falling down his face. "Science? What's all that muggle codswallop? If I didn't have enough respect for my sister, I would've said she was off her rocker!"

Ruth stared at her uncle incredulously. It was true, then, that the man before her was her mother's brother. She could see the golden flecks in his eyes, and the curvature of the face. "Ok," she said cautiously, "suppose, _hypothetically_," she scowled at his amused expression, "that I accept this... _magic._ Explain then why I haven't used it in ages, Uncle _Tony_!" Antonin flinched at the waspish voice she used.

His face turned thoughtful and serious. "Well I've always wondered why the two of them went into hiding. There wasn't anything wrong with you, as far as I could tell. You were healthy and whole, the last time I saw you."

"And when was that?"

"When you were two years old. It was two years after the war, and I was on the run from Aurors," He looked at her confused expression, "dark wizard catchers, that's what they are.

"You know," he said, analyzing Ruth's face, "you look almost exactly like Elias."

"And Elias is who?"

"Ah, child," he said, once again wiping tears of laughter off his face, "I forgot your parents used pseudonyms. You know what pseudonyms mean, right?"

"Mr Dolohov," Ruth said in a cheerfully fake voice, "I am not a blithering Neanderthal. I understand human speech."

Dolohov chuckled. Ruth reminded him exactly of his sister, it was quite hilarious. "You're pretty smart for your age, Ruth. Not many eight-year olds know what pseudonym means."

"Then again," he murmured to himself, "not many eight-year olds are _you_."

"Mr Dolohov?" Ruth's voice took him out of his thoughts, "what are you whispering?"

"Nothing," he said cheerily. "Let's eat!"

* * *

Elias. The name rang a bell for Seamus Finnigan. Where had he heard it before?

* * *

"How did you know this was my favorite?" exclaimed Ruth, who looked at her full dinner plate with greed in her eyes.

This amused Antonin. "This is my favorite, Ruthie. Your mom would always smack me when I would ask for it for supper." He smiled fondly.

It looked simply delicious. Her plate was filled with tons of ravioli, and a lip-smacking sauce spread over it. Scrumptuous meatballs were put around her plate, and a piece of cilantro placed on the top. All in all, Ruth Yvonne was in heaven. Without pausing to see if her uncle was eating, she dug in, stuffing the mouth-watering pasta in her mouth.

"You know," Dolohov said pensively, watching the eight-year old eating away, "I never really had the strength that your mother had."

"What do you mean?" Ruth asked, bits of sauce dripping down her mouth. Even though she was brilliant, her subtle manners weren't.

"Have you ever wondered why you have no grandparents?" Dolohov asked, watching her face closely. "Nope," she admitted. "Why?"

* * *

Suddenly Seamus realized who Elias was.

* * *

Seamus jumped as he heard a loud bang ringing in his ears. It slowly died, followed by shrieks and screaming, which were getting increasingly louder. He glanced around, and found himself face-to-face with a deranged Dolohov. Ruth had backed away into a corner, eyeing the exchange with concern.

"What're _you_ doing here?" the ex-Death Eater growled, staring into the wizard's face.

"You," Seamus glanced at Ruth, "you have no right to tell Ruth."

"And who are you?"

"I'm Seamus Finnigan, Auror to the English ministry," Seamus replied coolly, holding the front of his coat pocket. If only Hermione would hurry up...

"The ministry is not gonna ruin my life, bloodtraitor!" Antonin roared, spraying saliva over Seamus. However, the seasoned Auror was unruffled. He took out an envelope and handed it to the perplexed wizard. Meanwhile, he took the time to stupefy the rest of the restaurant. If Hermione was here, she would've made it more efficient, but what she and Draco were doing was anybody's guess.

Antonin's dangerous eyes looked incredulous as he scanned the letter. "I-...It can't be..." the man put a hand through his dirty hair. He narrowed his eyes at the smaller man. "You're not making this up, are you?"

"Test it to make sure."

Ruth stared at the two of them, unable to comprehend. "What's wrong, Uncle?"

Antonin looked at the parchment, which was embossed with an unusual crest on it. In his mind, he had no doubt at all that it was directly from the House of Yvonne, a pureblood family which had dwindled from nearly a thousand to one single eight-year old child. "Who's this?" he spat, looking at the big family tree, to an unknown branch.

"It's Ruth's nearest relative," Seamus replied coolly. "She's part of the Yvonne family, although she doesn't know that yet."

"And besides," Seamus added, eyeing the dark look on Antonin's face, "you have your own family to take care of."

Antonin scoffed, slightly crumpling the paper, "My family is gone. They're probably hiding in Siberia right now." He picked up his and Ruth's coats, which he handed to the eight-year old. "You'll respect the agreements?" he added, as they made their way out of the restaurant. The muggles were starting to stare.

"Don't worry, Dolohov. The Yvonne family's blood runs deeper than even the purest of purebloods." Seamus assured, following them out the door.

The bright light of the sun shone on them, as they made their way onto the street. Suddenly, two figures appeared out of nowhere, heading in their general direction. Both collided, and all of them hit the cement rather roughly.

When the dust had cleared, Seamus found himself looking at an immensely dishevelled Draco, and an irate Hermione. "What are you doing?" she hissed, dragging Seamus' arm, nearly ripping it out of his socket. The two people next to Seamus looked around. Ruth was staring at the group in apparent shock.

"Hermione, not here. Not now." Seamus said in an undertone. Hermione just glared at him, but then she got up, brushing the dirt off of her. She looked up at her surroundings, and her eyes landed on Antonin Dolohov.

"YOU!" she screamed.

The chaos began.

* * *

The man lay in his dark, padded cell, not noticing the screams and moans coming through the walls. He sat there, unmoving, replaying the events in his mind's eye. It was all too good to be true, as most things are. He should've known that Aurors would have been there. If only he had decided to wait long after what had happened, then he wouldn't be in this mess. But he had to know how she was doing. How was he to know that the Dementors had attacked her house?

She would be put into care, that much was for certain. With her fair complexion, the way her eyes sparkled, anyone would have given anything to be with her. It was a characteristic she had inherited from her mother, who in turn inherited it from her mother. He however, inherited the foul-face of his father.

Nevertheless, it took all of his willpower not to succumb to the despair and gloom. But even though he was ignoring it, it wasn't ignoring him; rather, it hung over him like a damp shadow hanging on his shoulders.

The woman who had apprehended him was the Granger girl. He remembered that she was a part of the Golden Trio, and that she was extremely smart. She was the one who had simultaneously cast Memory charms on all the customers in the muggle restaurant and put the Stupefy curse on him.

If he ever got out of Azkaban alive again, he would hunt her down until his dying days, that much was certain. Because of her meddling, he knew he had failed to grant his sisters' last unspoken wish; to protect Ruth Yvonne forever.

-

-

* * *

Disclaimer: All right reserved to JK Rowling. I do not own any Harry Potter characters, places, ideas, except for Ruth Yvonne and LaPierre Boulevard.

Do not use this plot without my permission.


	4. Decisions

**A.N.: The three chapters before this one are just an introduction. This story will be separated into six parts, for each stage in Ruth's development. We'll see more of Ruth, of course. She's one of the main characters! **

**From now on, this WHOLE story will be in Ruth's diary and in third person.**

**Also with my stories I have to research a lot. I live in Canada, and I'm writing about stuff in Europe! You can imagine my dilemma. Thank the dear Lord for Wikipedia! I'm not even sure if Wikipedia is right, but I just have to chance it! Thank you for telling me my faults in the story. I really appreciate it, even if I have no clue where I wrote it. If you live in: Aosta, Italy; Ardara, Ireland; County Donegal, Ireland; Denmark, Estonia, Finland, France, Italy, Scotland, Tallinn, Estonia; Tampere, Finland; Wales, Somerset or Dorset, please comment, because I will be using these places for this story!**

**As you can see, I like exotic places. I mean, Estonia? lol.**

**Oh, and I know how to write epilepsy and schizophrenia. I just think that if Ruth is too smart, then it would be unbelievable. **

Part I - A Reason to Live

Chapter 4

Decisions

-

-

November 1st, 2004

_Dear Diary,_

_They took my uncle away from me. It reminded me of the sad stories about WWII, where families and loved ones got separated and killed. I didn't want to go with them, but They forced me into the van. _

_First they tell me I'm a wizard, then they tell me my parents were pureblood, and next they tell me my uncle's an infamous criminal!_

_This is just too much. Daddy would never have let this happen. I know my Mommy and Daddy were never magical. Sure, Daddy had his occasional parlour trick, but that doesn't mean he's magical. Every Daddy has, at least, made a tea cup disappear in front of their children. Right?_

_Daddy has always been a good father to me. I know that. He even gave me this diary! When he gave it to me, he said it was magical. If I thought really hard about a person, they'd get a diary just like mine and I'd be able to talk to them in mine! But I know he was just acting funny for me. He always has been, right?_

_I don't know. Maybe I'm just trying to pretend that they weren't magical. Sometimes, I used to hear voices coming from my room, even though no one is there. And if I look closely, I used to be able to see colors surrounding Mommy and Daddy. It always would calm me, looking at those colors. I wonder if there's a word for that._

_Maybe they were magical. But I'll be stubborn for Them. They won't know what hit Them._

_Especially that blonde-haired guy. I just took one look at him and he glared at me. Well if he wants to fight, then bring it on! Ruth Yvonne is no sissy. If I was, I wouldn't be able to grow up in Bath. There, they think that anyone who's smarter than them is dirt. I'm happy I won't be staying there anymore, at least._

_All I know is that I'll be open to whatever those weird people say. I'm not one to shrug away information. It's my hobby, knowing interesting facts. Lord knows there isn't anything interesting about my hometown._

_There's another lady. I think she told me that her name was Hermione. She looks awfully like my aunt Karen, only her eyes aren't freaky. They're brilliant brown, with specks of green in them. Auntie Karen has reddish violet eyes that just go through you. But she's a good soul. She was the one who encouraged my hobby. I wouldn't be as smart as I am today if not for her. _

_I hope this Hermione girl is the same way. I'd hate to be stuck with a lady who is only a lovestruck woman who doesn't know the word "feminist"! I have a feeling though, that this Hermione lady is no blondie. Just a hunch on my part._

_She wasn't surprised when I tried to make her back off with my big vocabulary. Instead, she looked happy. More than happy in my opinion. Was she smart when she was younger too?_

_So many questions, so little time!_

_Ruth Yvonne_

-

-

"How is she?" The monotonous beeping in the hospital ward was really getting to Seamus Finnigan. He had heard it once; now he wish he would never hear it again in his life. Behind him, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were calmly standing. Draco looked mutinous, whereas Hermione looked concerned. Every now and then she'd look at the girl in the hospital bed.

Dean Thomas looked up from the computer beside her bed. "I think she's trying to avoid us by pretending she's sleeping," he grinned mechanically. "That was quite a mean stunt you did on that Death Eater, Seam'."

"Well," Seamus said apprehensively, "I was dealing with Antonin Dolohov-"

"-who wouldn't harm anyone when Ruth was with him," Dean finished crossly. "Really, Seamus. The girl is his bloody niece!"

Seamus was about to talk back, when a hand reached out and tapped his shoulder. He spun around, and locked eyes with a very angry Hermione. "Finnigan, just what was in that letter?" she asked severely. Seamus twiddled his thumbs nervously.

"It said that the custody of Ruth Yvonne will be given to the current Head of the House of Yvonne."

"And who is it?" Hermione snapped impatiently. Seamus hastily dug from his pocket an old and faded piece of parchment. "The last Yvonne is Janet Katarina Yvonne, better known as Karen. She's twenty-nine and lives in a remote location in Finland. Her parents were Nicholai Yvonne and Ella Potter Yvonne."

Hermione was thoughtful. "Have you searched thoroughly, Finnigan?"

"Not as thorough as I'd have liked. Nicholai's parents were Aleksi Yvonne and Lisett Rebane, and they had two children: Nicholai, and a girl named Margaret Yvonne. No one knows what happened to her. She most likely disappeared after the Second War."

"Not good enough, Seamus," drawled the blonde man standing beside Hermione. "Whoever Margaret's offspring is, it's wreaking havoc on who is to take care of little Ruthie here."

Dean Thomas snorted, "She's little Ruthie now, Malfoy?"

"Draco." Malfoy said with a tone of finality in it. "I would prefer if you'd just call me Draco."

The healer snorted again. "Yeah, once pigs learn how to transfigure themselves!"

Hermione silenced the two of them with a look, and spoke again, "Finnigan, I want you to conduct an investigation on the family tree of Yvonne. We all know that it's a very ancient pureblood house. No matter what, search for any abnormalities in the family, and especially Margaret Yvonne."

"Yes'm." Seamus walked across the room to the fireplace and stepped inside it. "Ministry of Magic, Auror Department, London!" he cried, and he was engulfed in green flames.

[-]

The amount of paperwork was overwhelming, even for the Boy-Who-Lived, who wasn't working at all. He was, in fact, sleeping on top of the pile of parchment, using it as a pillow. His small, grunting snores were added to the sounds of turmoil surrounding his desk. A particular sound, footsteps in fact, were getting louder and closer ... they seem to have stopped ...

"Oi, Potter!" Blaise Zabini had just got into work with a heavy hangover, courtesy of Pansy Parkinson. He wasn't in a good mood at all. "Snap out of it!"

"Eh?" Harry lifted up his head and gazed around. He did a 180 degree turn and met Blaise's gaze. "Oh, sorry Zabini." he muttered.

"We're needed by Finnigan at Floo Port 8, just to let you know." When Harry heard this, he _did_ snap out of it. They rarely got urgent calls from him. "He says he needs at least three of our people on the case."

Harry stood up and grabbed his travel-worn cloak from his chair. The two men started walking down the busy hallway, avoiding the paper memos zooming around the place. "Did he say exactly what type of case was it?"

"It's a special children's case. More of those kids seem to pop out of nowhere. Must be the aftershocks of the war." Zabini grumbled, almost colliding with a stressed out witch who was carrying a teetering pile of parchment.

"So, he wants to brief us first?" Harry asked, swatting an extremely urgent memo, who screeched indignantly at him. "Usually they just give us a briefing file."

Zabini shrugged. "It must be important, because I've never seen Finnigan so tense. He really should take a break." Harry heard the unspoken sentence: Hermione was giving Seamus hell.

"I tell that to him all the time," Harry murmured, checking the watch Mrs Weasley had gotten him for his seventeenth birthday. The door of the elevator opened, and they both went inside. There, a very contented Percy Weasley was ruffling through a huge pile of files, not noticing Harry or Zabini, much to their pleasure. Percy wasn't the most interesting of people. He preferred to talk mostly about the Ministry and other boring subjects. "So, what's the kids' name?" he asked quietly.

"Her name is Ruth Yvonne." Zabini said with a slight hiccough.

Harry's eyes widened. He was living in Grimmauld Place, and he saw daily the tapestry on the third floor of the house. There was no mistaking it. "She's the last Yvonne?"

"How do you know about them?" Zabini asked sharply, accidentally stepping on someone's feet, causing them to yelp in pain. "Only pureblood families-"

"Don't go there," Harry interrupted sternly, not wanting to get into purity of blood. "I live in Grimmauld Place."

"Oh," Was all Zabini said before continuing, "Finnigan wants us to look and find out about Karen Yvonne, because now that her parents are dead, she's her only surviving relative."

"I don't think so," Harry said sharply. Zabini looked at him in surprise. "What do you know, Potter?" he asked curiously. Harry looked at the elevator buttons. "When I was doing my internship at the Auror department, I found a file marked 'Yvonne', in the birth certificate section. I'm pretty sure-"

But he didn't say anything more, because Gregory Goyle had just entered the elevator door and placed himself in between the two of them. So Harry contented himself with staring once more at the buttons. The door dinged, and the cool female voice announced that they were in the Atrium. Blaise and Harry walked out of the elevator, quiet once more.

They headed into the floo section of the Atrium, and sure enough, a very scared Seamus Finnigan was pacing to and fro, wringing his hands. He gave Harry the impression that he was in deep trouble. Harry had only seen Wormtail do the very same thing once in his life.

Suddenly Seamus saw them, and he walked towards them with frantic eyes. "Please tell me you don't have anymore work to do. This is a very important case and if H-"

"Don't worry Seamus," Harry reassured him gently, "We'll help you out." Zabini let out a derisive snort from behind him. Harry gave Blaise a hard look and turned back to Seamus. "What do you want us to do."

"Go to Finland," Seamus said in a rush, "and find out about Karen Yvonne as much as you can. Also, find out about Karen's parents and about Margaret Yvonne. I have a feeling we'll need to know as much as we can about those two."

Harry and Blaise nodded. It was perfectly logical. They had to trace it, to see if Margaret had any offspring. If she did, then they were viable candidates for becoming Head of House. "We're on it, Seamus." Zabini said coldly, and he strode towards a fireplace. "What city does she live in?"

"She's approximately five miles south of the city of Tampere." Seamus replied quickly, twiddling his fingers. In a flash, Zabini jumped inside, and yelled, "Tampere, Finland!". He disappeared in a flash of green light.

Seamus turned to Harry. "Could you look at all the records of Margaret Yvonne? I'd appreciate it a lot, mate." Harry nodded, and disappeared out of sight.

[-]

The front door clicked open, and Hermione walked in, tired and exhausted. Never before had she had a work day like this one. The first thing she wanted to do was to fall down on her mattress and sleep life away.

But first things first; she had to have supper.

She walked purposefully to her fridge, and took out leftover pasta she had cooked the night before. Whipping out her wand, she did a heating spell, and conjured some tomato paste out of thin air. Ever since she had heard that microwaves could cause cancer, she had always used her wand for heating up food. The only muggle appliance in her home was a fridge and a dishwasher.

Looking at her calendar book, she checked for any appointments while eating her pasta on her breakfast table. Her parents' anniversary was coming up in a few weeks, and she had no idea what to give them. After the war, she had gone to Australia and given them back their memories. Luckily they had wholeheartedly forgiven her, and said they would rather stay in Australia, preferring the warmth over the chill of England.

They had their own little house near Sydney's harbor, and a little house-boat which they occasionally used. All in all, it was as if they had an early retirement there. Hermione was happy for them. She had always wanted her parents to be content in their old age.

Hermione's house was set in a Victorian style, dating back to the Industrial Revolution. She lived in the country, in Somerset. The place was beautiful and way different than the hustle and bustle of London. She was a city girl by heart, but she needed to get away from it most of the time.

Her home looked like the perfect getaway, with the fire crackling, the sweet smells of food, and the pure calmness of it all.

WHAM! The fire turned green and a petite woman appeared out of it, destroying the peaceful illusion in the place. "Audrey?" Hermione exclaimed, jumping up to her feet and helping the woman up.

"Hermione, dearie!"

Audrey Lewis Weasley was a simply splendid person to have pop in unannounced. Hermione appreciated her, not only as Percy's wife, but as one of her closest friends outside of Hogwarts. Audrey had attended Beauxbatons School five years ago and now she owned her own store in LaPierre Boulevard. Sometimes Hermione wondered how Audrey could stand to hear Percy go on and on about different things, but judging by the way Audrey talked, Hermione wasn't surprised.

"...and Molly and Lucy are getting so big, just think, in four years they'll be going off to Hogwarts and-"

"Would you like some tea, Audrey?" Hermione said, amusement dancing in her eyes.

Audrey looked a bit flustered. "Why yes, Hermione dear..." she said offhandedly. "-as I was saying, their birthday is coming up, and you know how they simply adore you! You should some to Dorset some time, just drop by, Hermione, it wouldn't hurt! Percy is simply driving me crazy, what with his new position as Head of Department of Magical Cooperation. I would think, with his fiasco a few years back, Crouch and all, that he wouldn't get the position, but as I say, 'old wounds heal fast once you let them'. And I dare say that's what Percykins has done. He's simply brilliant with Molly and Lucy, although I hope that they won't ever be as ambitious as he is. I mean, the heights he goes to whenever he talks about his job!"

Hermione was busying herself with the kettle. She gave her usual reply. "Really?"

"Oh, I saw Penelope Clearwater at my store the other day..." The way Audrey said the name made it clear that she thought Penelope's water was anything but clear. She let out a little huff of air slip from her mouth before continuing. "The nerve of that woman! Going on about her job like she was the bloody queen of the world! She's the Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts, Hermione dear. I bet my cauldron that she knows as much about muggles as she knows about the Chamber of Secrets! Oh, that was mean thing to say!" Audrey added, a manic gleam in her hazel eyes. "But I dare say she deserves it. She's still jealous, you know, and her jealousy will lead to her downfall. As I always say-"

"-Jealousy is like a green-eyed monster from the pits of Hades," Hermione recited. Audrey stood up, looking surprised. "Am I boring you, darling?" she asked, her eyes widening. Hermione was amused. "No, Audrey. I just know you off by heart."

"Oh, Hermione dearie!" Audrey exclaimed, knocking over a lamp in her haste to hug Hermione, who was carrying a kettle. "Oh dear," she said, looking at the pot in Hermione's hands, "I'm getting too excited. I'll just sit over here!" she said, letting Hermione come into the dining room.

If one could see Audrey now, they'd presume that she was a duddering airhead with no sense whatsoever. But Audrey was anything but. Although she was spacey at times, Hermione knew that if Audrey had attended Hogwarts, she would definitely be in Gryffindor. She also had an uncanny knack for perception, even if the emotions were slight.

"-anyways, you should really stop moping, Hermione dear." Audrey's pale face looked disapproving. Hermione set two tea cups down on the table and looked at Audrey sternly. "Who says I'm moping?"

"I say," Audrey replied back irritably, "and you should stop, really dear. Ignore Ronald, he'll wallow in his own misery. He's too thick for his own good." When Hermione did not reply back, Audrey went on. "I think he was really in love, but he had no clue. You have to live your life now-"

"-I'm living, thank you very much," Hermione responded coolly, slamming the tea cup with unnecessary force.

The rest of Audrey's stay was in silence.

[-]

November 5th, 2004

_Dear Diary,_

_I'm back. Now They've made sure that I won't pretend to be asleep any longer. My healer, Dean Thomas told me that he knew straight from the beginning that I was pretending. He also said that I was awfully smart for an eight-year old. What can I say? I've always been like this. He asked me if I wanted to go outside and play. I said I'd rather read a book. He then looked at me funny._

_Another man came in. I think both him and Healer Dean are friends. The man's name is Seamus Finnigan. He said that he works in a ministry. His department are trying to find Auntie Karen, and he wanted to ask me a couple of questions. I didn't answer any of them because he might be with Them. I said it out loud, and Healer Dean asked me "who's They?". I didn't say anything after that._

_The lady named Hermione came today. She just stared at me in a sad way. It reminded me of the times when mother would come into my room and talk. Sometimes mother would talk for hours. She'd always have this sad little face on, making me feel like a little child again. The woman named Hermione started talking just like mother. I think it was a rant of sorts. _

_She talked about this man named Ron Weasley. He sounds like a person who's made too many mistakes in his life. She, like my mother, got this weird face when she talked about him. Mother would also talk about father with that face. It looked like she didn't know what to make of him anymore type of face._

_Then Healer Dean came in with the mean faced blondie I saw a couple of days ago. He looked solemn, like he was about to die. I asked them what was going on. Hermione looked real sad. Mr Finnigan appeared out of the fire at the same time. They all went up to my bed, then Healer Dean told me what happened._

_Auntie Karen died from the Dementors._

_When I first heard it, I thought they were just joking. But they looked so serious and scared. Why would they be scared? It's not like I would hurt them. Hermione put a hand on my shoulder. It was comforting, just like what mother used to do. And then I said, "They did it." Healer Dean asked again, "who's They?" I said, "They usually come in my nightmares." I asked them if any of them saw Them. _

_Healer Dean looked impatient and asked the question again. I started getting mad. How could they not know who They were? It's obvious. I see Them. They're in this room right now, waving at me with their pointed little wings. It's not hard to miss. Sometimes if I'm real angry, I'd get them to shut up. But other times, they'd grab me down and start making me do horrid things. _

_There was this muggle doctor in Bath who told me that I had either epelepsy or schizofrenia. But I know better. When I was in the hospital, I talked with other patients who had 'schizophrenia' and they said that it was a cover up. They also saw Them. There was this girl named Sophie Lambert. Her name sounded French. She said that she thinks that They were sent by an evil force, and that They were consuming the whole Universe! I think she's gone a bit nutty. _

_I told Healer Dean that They were behind him, and he did this sort of twitch. Then he got really angry. _

_The foul-faced blond shouted at Healer Dean to be quiet. He said he believed me._

_Does he really? Or is he just trying to make me be quiet? If so, I didn't say anything more. Hermione looked really scared and mad at the same time. She said to me that we'd talk about this later. Healer Dean was holding his nose as if it was going to fall off. Then he said that since I have no more surviving relatives, that I'd have to live with the most protected people of all time. He then gave me a list of people. _

_Thankfully he told me to write them down. They were: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Andromeda Tonks, Ginny Potter and Angelina Johnson. I said that I'd choose Hermione any day. I've gotten close to her, which isn't that bad. Then Mr Finnigan said that me and Hermione need to go into hiding until I'm eleven. Three years won't be a problem. _

_But then the foul-faced blond said that it would be suspicious if anyone saw me with Hermione. Mr Finnigan had this evil smile on his face at that point, and he was looking at Draco with a dangerous glint. It was freaky. He said that Hermione and me won't be the only people going into hiding._

_He said that Hermione and the foul-faced blond will become my 'guardians'!_

_This is worst than Them! A hundred percent worse!_

_-Ruth Yvonne_

_-_

_-_

Disclaimer: All right reserved to JK Rowling. I do not own any Harry Potter characters, places, ideas, except for Ruth Yvonne and LaPierre Boulevard.

Do not use this plot without my permission.


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